Thank you. And, thank you for extending the sale - I'd been wanting to subscribe and was stuck with my Dec budget. January gave me some breathing room. Psyched to add a little more to your numbers.
As always, so beautiful! This in particular bowled me over: "Each time I had a baby, I cried. I’d transformed matter into her living form, but because she was now alive she would someday be consumed by death."
Meg, you have an uncanny ability to see something - a brand, a photograph, an animal - through a unique lens that radically shifts my perspective on multiple areas of my lives experience. Here, motherhood, my faith, and my area of legal expertise (transformation). All. At. Once. Thank you for blowing my mind. Again.
Was listening to a podcast on Tolkien’s Silmarillion about Nienna, the Weeper, or Fui the Goddess of Death.
Just happens that I saw the notification for your essay.
Thank you, Meg, for this beatification of death. I’m in Northern California and those Vultures are everywhere above the golden (dead) summer hills. A personal Epiphany.
Loved this Meg, as always. Made me think of Constance Classen’s The Deepest Sense. It’s a history of touch and covers some premodern associations between women and the home that I find fascinating-- including how women were often associated with animals who represented supposedly lower order senses like touch. Men were associated with animals like the eagle, known for higher order senses like vision. I’m here for this elevation of death and regeneration to the highest order, especially in the new year.
Beautiful. I remember after giving birth the first time how bloody it all was, and that it smelled of fresh meat. Because we are just animals.
Zoroastrianism always reminds me that Constantine chose Christianity because it had better lobbyists. And then I wonder how our lives would look under another religion for the past 2 millennia. Vulture funerals, anyone?
I loved this so much Meg. Just beautiful. And what I was in a way also thinking about this week, being in Oregon, reminded of a time after a dramatic rain, the sun backlighting a storm, dark clouds filling the sky, I happened upon a flock of vultures sunning themselves, their wings outstretched to their full span. How magnificent they were, how unexpected to see them up close like that, see their bald heads, the glossy iridescence in the black of their wings. You put a coda on that experience with this essay that I just love even more. Thank you.
Absolutely beautiful! Thank you!
Oh, how hauntingly brilliant that was! I love it, thank you for sharing. May 2023 be lulled by the song we play on 2022 remains.
Thank you. And, thank you for extending the sale - I'd been wanting to subscribe and was stuck with my Dec budget. January gave me some breathing room. Psyched to add a little more to your numbers.
Wonderful. Thank you.
Gorgeous and moving. And (for this pastor) a good and necessary sermon for Epiphany. Thank you.
As always, so beautiful! This in particular bowled me over: "Each time I had a baby, I cried. I’d transformed matter into her living form, but because she was now alive she would someday be consumed by death."
Meg, you have an uncanny ability to see something - a brand, a photograph, an animal - through a unique lens that radically shifts my perspective on multiple areas of my lives experience. Here, motherhood, my faith, and my area of legal expertise (transformation). All. At. Once. Thank you for blowing my mind. Again.
God I love birds.
This is fantastic and insightful. The ending is gorgeous and haunting. And you cite Milton Quarterly!
Was listening to a podcast on Tolkien’s Silmarillion about Nienna, the Weeper, or Fui the Goddess of Death.
Just happens that I saw the notification for your essay.
Thank you, Meg, for this beatification of death. I’m in Northern California and those Vultures are everywhere above the golden (dead) summer hills. A personal Epiphany.
Loved this Meg, as always. Made me think of Constance Classen’s The Deepest Sense. It’s a history of touch and covers some premodern associations between women and the home that I find fascinating-- including how women were often associated with animals who represented supposedly lower order senses like touch. Men were associated with animals like the eagle, known for higher order senses like vision. I’m here for this elevation of death and regeneration to the highest order, especially in the new year.
I’m in SoCal also! Let’s hang out. Jk. Thanks for this and all columns. Today I stood up for myself and the value of this work we do. It felt great.
hi! is there still a discord for subscribers? thanks you!
Beautiful. I remember after giving birth the first time how bloody it all was, and that it smelled of fresh meat. Because we are just animals.
Zoroastrianism always reminds me that Constantine chose Christianity because it had better lobbyists. And then I wonder how our lives would look under another religion for the past 2 millennia. Vulture funerals, anyone?
I loved this so much Meg. Just beautiful. And what I was in a way also thinking about this week, being in Oregon, reminded of a time after a dramatic rain, the sun backlighting a storm, dark clouds filling the sky, I happened upon a flock of vultures sunning themselves, their wings outstretched to their full span. How magnificent they were, how unexpected to see them up close like that, see their bald heads, the glossy iridescence in the black of their wings. You put a coda on that experience with this essay that I just love even more. Thank you.
"What if we treated all babies like our salvation?" What a different world this would be.